


The Water

by taormina



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Jeremy does strange things when he’s bored, Love Confessions, M/M, TV shows don't end AU, epic race, school yard teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taormina/pseuds/taormina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy wonders what James and Richard get up to when he’s not around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Water

When the producers told the Top Gear presenters that they’d be hosting yet another _Car vs. Public transport race_ for the new series, Jeremy immediately came up with a number of cars he thought would be perfect for the job. _This_ car would make great television if it came down to speed and great looks, _that_ car would be excellent if the producers wanted one of those boring economical runs that they clearly loved so much, etc., etc. He even had the token ‘let’s make a bunch of environmentalists very angry’ car sorted out.

This race would be perfect no matter what the producers threw at them.

Unfortunately the producers had already found a suitable car for the challenge _themselves_ : a slow and sensible car that everyone in the production office was banging on about, but looked to Jeremy like it had been designed by a drunken blind man. In a pub. _He’d_ drawn better cars when he was seven!

Needless to say, the car wasn’t very exciting and the prospect of driving it looked bleak.

However, there was another thing the producers had decided: Jeremy wouldn’t be driving it.

Neither would Richard.

_James_ would.

Jeremy, therefore, had to do the public transport bits.

Naturally this made Jeremy very cross, saying he’d rather _walk_ to wherever the finish line was and that everyone would just switch over to Antiques Roadshow anyway if they found out that James would be doing the driving. As you would expect, the producers completely ignored this sentiment and told Jeremy to man up or spend the rest of the series riding a tricycle.

It’s not as though Jeremy had to do much work, though: _all_ he and Richard had to do (yes, he’d be travelling with Richard) was catch a bus, get aboard a ferry to some cold, faraway place with an unpronounceable name and walk the last half mile to the local bar. (There may also have been a train involved, but Jeremy wasn’t really listening.)

The challenge could literally not have been more difficult. It’s as though the producers had designed the race in such a way that Jeremy would have to do fuck all and offend as few public transport enthusiasts as possible,  while still intentionally subjecting him to the horrors of queues, sea sickness, broken ticket machines and stained bus seats.

What could possibly go wrong?

Of course, a lot of things _did_ go wrong. When the crew started filming the segment a fortnight later, Jeremy showed up rather late at the designated starting point (wanting to go home, he even went through the trouble of pretending he had a bit of a cold, which didn’t go down well with the producers and Richard) and James, having forgotten that he wasn’t using public transport this time, had to go and buy a smaller travel case because his wouldn’t fit inside the car’s tiny boot.

When the race finally started twenty minutes later, Jeremy and Richard had actually _missed_ the bus that was supposed to take them to the ferry. They then had to chase it, film crew and all, until the bus driver mercifully stopped and let them all in.

It took Jeremy a full two minutes of composed gratitude until he started moaning about the bus seats, the bus fares, the _driver_ and pretty much everything else related to buses. This made decent television, but it also made Richard wish he was in the car with James **badly**. Or that James was here with him and that Jeremy was stuck in traffic somewhere.

_At least James allowed Richard to snuggle up against him whenever he got tired._ (When the camera crew were too busy filming road signs to notice, that is.)

Jeremy? All he’d done so far was manage to ‘accidentally’ ‘break’ a bus seat for ‘scientific purposes’.

They had a long journey ahead of them.  
  


**MANY HOURS LATER:**

 ‘I have no idea how you and James never started harming yourselves out of utter _boredom_ on one of these trips.’ Jeremy mused when the camera crew had finally left the boys’ tiny cabin on the ferry to wherever.

_They had survived the bus. Thank God._

_The bus driver wasn’t going to sue Jeremy for trying to see how sturdy the insides of buses are. Thank God for that, too._

The cabin was all right as far as overnight stops went: the beds weren’t particularly comfortable, the toilet absolutely reeked _and_ the television was only programmed to show BBC1, BBC2, BBC News and three channels broadcasting live feeds of various webcams in- and outside the ferry, but it would do. 

By now, the ferry was out on the open sea. The sun had gone down. They were making progress, albeit slowly; the tracker on Richard’s iPad suggested that James was already ahead by about one hundred miles. Whereas James was doing whatever the speed limits allowed him to, the ferry was doing 25 mph. It wasn’t good.

Richard knew from previous challenges that what they lacked in speed they’d be making up for in sleep, though. James couldn’t stay up forever.

_I hope he’s not feeling too lonely._    
  
Unable to do anything about their current position in the race, Jeremy was lazily slouched on a chair. It looked very uncomfortable. Richard was sitting on his bed, about an arms’-length away, reading a free magazine he had found on a table in the restaurant earlier.

‘I’m so _bored_ and _miserable_ ,’ said Jeremy grumpily. He wished he could have a fag, but that meant going to the deck of the ship, which was three flights of stairs away and out in the cold and _ugh effort_. Perhaps he could have a quick smoke in the ‘bathroom’ later, but said bathroom was so ridiculously tiny that he’d probably manage to dislocate his arm in the process of lighting his fag and consequently set the whole cabin on fire.

‘Have you tried looking out of the window yet?’ Richard suggested sarcastically. A few hours in, and Jeremy was already getting on his nerves. He wished James were here. ‘See how many seagulls you can spot if you’re so _bored_.’

Richard imagined James in the car.

Talking to the camera.

His fingers gracing the steering wheel.

He imagined James’s fingers running down his—

_No, Richard. Not now. Not here._

He felt himself getting hot.

Thankfully, Jeremy’s stupid voice brought right him back to Earth: ‘I can’t count the seagulls, Hammond. It’s dark, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Then count the sea buoys. The ones with the lights on top.’

Jeremy tried it. He stopped counting after three.

‘Hand me the remote,’ said Jeremy a moment later, gesturing lazily at the TV remote on the bed.

‘Get it yourself.’

Jeremy heaved an exaggerated sigh and got up. He took the remote, sat on the edge of the bed, turned on the television and after ten seconds decided he’d ‘rather be forced to stare at a Smart car for twenty-four hours’ than watch the rubbish on the telly. ‘Who in their right mind would want to watch a live feed of their dog in a kennel?’

_God, just shut up_ , Richard thought to himself. So much for a quiet trip out on the open waters.

Jeremy turned to Richard. ‘Honestly Hammond, what _did_ you two get up to while I was enjoying the twenty-first century comforts of the modern car?’

Richard went slightly red in the face. If Jeremy knew about what they’d done …

He couldn’t even bear to think about it.

When Richard didn’t answer his question, Jeremy started listing things out loud that _he_ thought Richard and James got up to during their epic Top Gear races: play chess, try flirting with a woman in French and failing miserably, _not_ taste any of the local cuisine; the list went on. When Jeremy reached Thing Seven That Jeremy Clarkson Thought Richard And James Got Up To During The Epic Top Gear Races, i.e. ‘Bore Richard to death with useless trivia about the Japanese bullet train’, he started reciting made-up facts in his mock James May voice. This annoyed Richard very much.

OK, _yes_ , James’s knack for going on and on about things that weren’t remotely interesting  is sometimes a bit of a pain when you’re at the receiving end of it, but deep down Richard loved that about him. He loved that James always tries to know something about everything, even if it’s just a smattering.

_Why couldn’t Jeremy see that?_

‘God,’ said Jeremy when he ran out of things to say. ‘I bet James would drive you round the bend during these races. Do you think he’s going on about the history of the autobahn right now? I _bet_ you he is. I bet in the final montage of this race they’ll have to cut out about five hours of him just talking rubbish.’

Jeremy was really rubbing Richard up the wrong way now.

‘Well, he’s better company than you are right now, mate.’ Despite having read the same sentence three times now, Richard decided to pretend he was suddenly very interested in the article on albatrosses he was trying to get through.

Jeremy scoffed. ‘No need to get so defensive.’

‘Just shut up about James before I fucking throw you overboard. I mean that, by the way.’ He didn’t want to get mad at Jeremy, not really, but couldn’t he just be a _bit_ less childish?

Smartly, Jeremy didn’t say anything. Instead, he watched Richard warily, like his brain was working very hard to consider a hard decision. Question is, _what kind_?

Meanwhile, Jeremy’s comments had caused Richard’s heart to race. His cheeks were red-hot. Almost comically, his face was now almost hidden entirely behind the magazine. He didn’t want Jeremy to notice what effect his words had had on him.

Unfortunately, as the front cover of the magazine sported very unpromising headlines such as ‘Five tips for tackling sea sickness’ and ‘Win a trip to the coast of Belgium’, Jeremy found this extremely suspicious. After a moment’s consideration, he decided to yank the magazine out of Richard’s hands like a big bully.

Everything happened very fast after that.

‘You’re _blushing_!’ Jeremy said in a high voice when his eyes fell on Richard’s flushed face. He (Jeremy) looked positively chuffed to have made this discovery, like he’d just discovered a free minibar underneath the bed. ‘Richard Hammond is _blushing_!’

‘No I’m not,’ said Richard defensively. ‘Give it back. I was enjoying that.’

 Jeremy got off the bed and threw the magazine on top of a cupboard that he knew Richard couldn’t reach.

‘Jeremy, you pillock.’ He stood up too. ‘Give it back.’  
  
‘You blush every time I mention James’s name,’ said Jeremy accusingly.

Richard put his hands on his hips in an attempt to make myself look bigger. ‘What? No I don’t,’ he said, every word tinged with insincerity.

‘Yes you do.’

‘Give me back the magazine, Jeremy, or I swear to god I’ll—‘

‘Throw me overboard? Not before _you_ tell me why you turn bright red every time I mention James. Call it … Collegial  concern.’

He was right. Jeremy _was_ seeing right through Richard.

The mere mention of James’s name made Richard hot, like he was some silly schoolgirl who had a secret crush on the biology teacher. Richard knew he could simply deny everything, but then he’d run the risk of ruining his relationship with Jeremy with his secrets. He wasn’t sure what the better option was.

‘I – I just miss him, all right?’ _No. Shit. That came out all wrong._ ‘I mean– What I’m trying to say is t—’

‘You’ve had sex with James on one of these trips, haven’t you?’

Richard’s heart leapt.

It wasn’t a question, nor an accusation; it was a fact. A stone cold fact. Like he knew. Jeremy knew. _Richard Hammond has had sex with James May on one of the epic Top Gear races._ God, they’d never hear the end of it if it was leaked to the press. Perhaps he’d have to emigrate to a country where no one watched Top Gear, and set up a mini-cab company.

Jeremy leaned against the window sill and eyed Richard darkly. The fact that Richard now knew that _he_ knew, made Jeremy feel incredibly powerful. Theoretically he could talk Richard into doing anything he wanted with this information. _Anything_. Jeremy could keep Richard’s secret at the cost of Richard never being allowed to do supercar reviews ever again. It was the perfect bargaining card.

(He wasn’t that cruel, though.)

The only thing that was going through Richard’s mind at the moment was _how_. How did Jeremy know? Unless Jeremy had mind-reading powers, here was no way in _hell_ he could have found out about what Richard and James had going on. **No way.**

The two of them had always been extremely discreet, almost to the point of obsession: when they met up during after-work hours it was usually under the pretence that they had some important matters to discuss, they generally avoided talking about each other on-camera in case Richard started blushing, they certainly never _touched_ on-camera and they even had separate phones for their non-work related conversations.

James was rather guarded when it came to these things, anyway; it had taken months for James to feel comfortable enough with Richard to have sex with him. Even now, years later, their relationship was more of a comfortable cocoon, a distraction from the Top Gear machine rather than a purely sexually-driven fling. It wasn’t your textbook relationship. (Although the sex _was_ nice.)

Richard avoided Jeremy’s eyes and decided to stay quiet.

‘Oh come _on_ ,’ said Jeremy after a while. He sounded warm. Kind. ‘Did you really think I wouldn’t find out that you two had snogged in the Lambo last week?’

_Shit shit shit_. James had been adamant that there weren’t any members of crew left on the track that day.

Jeremy ignored Richard’s obvious panic. ‘Or that you _accidentally_ wore one of his shirts to the studio the next day? I may need glasses but I’m not blind.’ Jeremy acted like they were discussing a brand new car, not Richard’s love life. ‘His shirts don’t suit you by the way.’

_Oh God, that Lambo._ Richard had tested the car, given his verdict and all that, and then James suddenly showed up in this expensive shirt, all hot and bothered and _very_ un-James. He insisted they test out the interior gadgets of the car together or whatever, and then the crew left and he gave Richard the best handjob he’d ever had.  

(The Lamborghini magically disappeared an hour later.)

No one was supposed to know about it. So how come Jeremy did?

_If I keep this secret a lot of things are going to end up unsaid and a lot of people are going to wonder why Jeremy and I don’t talk to each other anymore. Fuck._  
  
Reluctantly, Richard gave in. ‘Ok. Yes. We have a thing. A relationship. Whatever.’

He could hardly look at Jeremy. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to feel relieved that he no longer had to keep him and James a secret, or worse, feel absolutely terrified because his career and reputation were now pretty much left in the hands of an idiot. If the news came out (mind the pun), then that would be it.

Jeremy spotted Richard’s concern. ‘You don’t have to look so worried, you know. I won’t tell anyone. _Well_ ,’ he added, suddenly remembering something, ‘I _might’ve_ told The Stig, but he’s seen all sorts of things and I’m not even sure if he has a concept of human relationships.’  
  
Richard let out a breath of relief. ‘So you’re not … Cos I – James and I always thought you were a bit … Well, we always assumed that if you found out about it you’d have us killed or something. Or worse, hand us over to the _press_.’

‘I’m not _that_ big of a prick,’ Jeremy said sitting down. ‘Besides, everyone’s gay these days and you’re hardly pretty young things so it’s not like you’d be making headlines. No offence.’ He paused in consideration. ‘So where’d you do it?’

‘Do what?’

‘Have sex.’ Jeremy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Richard blushed. ‘I’m _really_ not going to discuss that with you, Jeremy.’

‘Well, we still have to spend –’ Jeremy checked his watch. ‘– Twelve hours on this ship _and_ the air conditioning makes an annoying rattling noise, so it’s not like I’m going to be getting any sleep anyway. Indulge me. Please, Richard,’ he added when Richard rolled his eyes at him.

Richard crossed his arms. ‘No.’

‘You can at least tell me what he’s like.’

‘ _Jeremy_.’

‘Not that good?’

‘He’s _gentle_ , actually,’ said Richard, his urge to defend James getting the better of him. ‘Kind. We’re not all Neanderthals like you. No one’s actually into that, you know.’

There was mischief in Jeremy’s eyes. ‘Sounds dull. I bet he’s a really bad kisser, all slow and precise.’

‘Sounds like _someone’s_ been spending a bit too much thinking about things they shouldn’t.’

‘I’m just saying, I bet he’s awful.’

Jeremy knew perfectly well that he was pushing Richard’s buttons. He wanted to see how far he could go, see whether he could talk Richard into showing his cards ... or talk him into doing something he’d definitely not do otherwise.

Not that Jeremy was gay, of course, _God no_ ; it’s just that he loved seeing Richard squirm a bit more than he’d like to admit.

(Did we mention he was ‘bored’?)

‘He’s _really_ not,’ was Richard’s reply.

‘So show me,’ said Jeremy, a little huskier than intended.

‘ _What_?’

‘Show me what it’s like to kiss James May.’

‘… And why would I do that?’

‘Because I’m bored and irresistible and will sleep better knowing that James is an awful kisser. I’ll buy you some beer?’ Jeremy added, as though that might make his suggestion any less out of the ordinary.

Richard shouldn’t even have considered the request. He should just have left there and then.

He didn’t, though.

Richard had, in truth, often imagined what it would be like to be kissed by James and Jeremy at the same time. James, _indeed_ , slow and almost mathematically precise, taking the time to taste and tease every. inch. of. his. body, and Jeremy? He’d imagine Jeremy was needy. Dominant. The type of guy who will bend you over before you’ve even managed to catch your breath.

Fuck, that turned him on.

Why did that turn him on?

He didn’t want to cheat on James. What they had wasn’t exactly a conventional relationship, but he’d feel bad for kissing another man.

Still, he’d be kissing _Jeremy_ , a mate; it’s not as though they actually had feelings for each other.

_Right?_  
  
(And he _did_ fancy a beer.)  
  
Right.

 ‘All right, I’ll kiss you, you big idiot,’ said Richard finally. ‘But only because it’ll shut you up,’ he added when Jeremy smirked a bit too smugly. He wanted to get this over with quickly in case someone had planted cameras in their cabin.

_This is a stupid idea_.

_This is a stupid idea and James is going to kill me._

Richard hesitated. ‘I don’t want your tongue inside my mouth.’

‘Got it, no tongues.’

‘Right. OK.’ Richard ran his fingers through his hair nervously. ‘Here goes, I suppose.’

Jeremy  scoffed. ‘You’re so fucking romantic.’

‘Shut up.’

Before Jeremy could say another word, Richard had already climbed onto Jeremy’s lap a bit too expertly and softly pressed his lips against Jeremy’s. It was just the gentlest amount of lip pressure, the gentlest amount of intimacy, and when Jeremy moaned contently and pulled Richard closer, he knew he’d done it right.

_Oh Christ, this is so wrong._

_What am I doing?_

Richard knew he could break off the kiss right now and pretend it had never happened, but something about the _wrongness_ of it all – the camera crew next door; James in the car, blissfully unaware; the way Jeremy’s hips twitched when Richard sucked on his bottom lip – made Richard very, very aroused.

_Stubble._

_OK. Fuck. That’s nice. Oh God._

Unlike James, who generally made an effort to make himself look more or less presentable during a Top Gear race, Jeremy hadn’t bothered to shave that morning. His lips were chapped. His hands, which were now creeping up Richard’s thighs, were big and rough as opposed to James’s gentle, sensitive fingers.

_Oh Jeremy._

Richard liked the contrasts between his two mates _a lot_ , and it wasn’t until Jeremy cheekily traced Richard’s lips with the tip of his tongue that it all became too real too soon.

When Richard had broken off the kiss and shyly retreated to his original position, the two of them didn’t say anything for a while. They both knew, or at least Richard did, that what they’d just done had to be kept secret from James and the rest of the crew; if Jeremy ever _did_ spill the beans, Richard would sure make every car Jeremy ever drove from now on would have to be fitted with better suspension because of the hammer stuck in his arse.

‘Well?’ Richard said finally, cocking his eyebrow. ‘Your verdict?’

Jeremy tried to think of a subtle way of telling Richard that he wasn’t as good a kisser as James.


End file.
